


A Cat for Christmas

by Fourthlinewinger, saltlicorice



Series: The Washington Cat-pitals [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Gen, a match made in chatfic, caps cat fic, nicky and ovi are cats that need a house, the brobeans have a house, the most silly and also adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourthlinewinger/pseuds/Fourthlinewinger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltlicorice/pseuds/saltlicorice
Summary: The Brobeans plan to adopt a dog, now that they have a house of their own.Ovi-cat has other ideas.





	A Cat for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> There's a file full of 50+ pages of notes on the adventures of Ovi-cat and Nicky-cat and the Brobeans in their little house, but this is where is all starts. I hope you have as much fun reading this as we had writing it!

It’s like an early Christmas gift: they close on Friday, get the keys on Monday, and it’s official. Tommy, Andre, and Mike have house a week before Christmas. They toast each other with champagne that night, tangled together on blankets on the floor of the empty (and slightly dusty) living room, and make plans to move in. Andre wants to be done by Christmas Eve, Mike just wants to be done, period, and Tommy is the one they expect to organize their friends into helping move furniture.

They’ve been living in a tiny one bedroom apartment on Shoshone, so it doesn’t take too long to move everything into their new ranch in the Southtowns. Mike remembers the horrors of moving in well enough that he made them pack up the apartment while they were house hunting, which means they don’t have to scramble to get everything ready before the truck arrives on Tuesday. Mike and Andre pack into boxes the last few things they couldn’t live without, and everyone comes over once Tommy’s off work to help load the van and unload at the new house.

Wednesday and Thursday are spent unpacking and trying to arrange their minimal secondhand furniture to fill up the rooms. The big bedroom fills up pretty quickly with their bed and dressers and assorted shoe collections, but Mike’s office looks bare, with nothing but a desk and a small bookcase, and the living room continues to echo even after they put their two chairs and the sofa around the fireplace.

“I guess we have to buy more furniture,” Tommy tells Andre, flopping down onto the couch Andre is pushing into a new corner. It’s an old, comfortable couch, but they have a new house. After Christmas sales are a thing, right? They could probably swing a new loveseat for the new house.

Andre takes that as his cue to stop working and sprawl on top of Tommy, spilling over the back of the sofa to land bony elbows first. Tommy groans.

“You know,” Andre says, wiggling obnoxiously. “We have a big yard. Maybe now we can finally get the dog we always talk about?”

Tommy stops thinking about furniture. He sits up, dumping Andre onto the floor in his excitement. “The backyard has a fence.” The lack of a fenced in yard to let their hypothetical dog into had been a big part of the reason they didn’t have a dog already.

Andre kicks Tommy’s shin in retribution, but he’s nodding enthusiastically. “And there is already a dog door in the kitchen.”

They track down Mike.

Mike, kneeling on the floor of the kitchen so he can put their pots away, says, “We just moved in, guys,” but he’s biting his lip even before Tommy and Andre start listing all the reasons why they should finally get the dog they’ve all wanted since sophomore year.

They’re at the SPCA the next day.

* * *

Adopting a dog is a lot more work than Tommy thought. They’re met at the front desk by a woman named Raanee who asks them what they’re looking for, what experience they have, and what their home situation is. Raanee has colorful braids and eyes that kind of seem like they can see right through their claim to adulthood. Tommy is glad that Mike answers most of the questions. He tries to look like a responsible homeowner but he’s pretty sure his eyes fall out of his head when Raanee tells them the cost to adopt a puppy. Like, they can do it, he’s pretty sure, but maybe he should take back a couple of the games he got Mike and Andre for Christmas. And the new X-Box.

“I don’t know if a puppy is really what we want,” Mike says after a pause that Tommy knows means he was thinking the same thing. “We can look at puppies and dogs, right?” Mike glances at Tommy, who nods, and at Andre, who’s not looking at them or at Raanee.

“What kind of dog is that?” Andre asks, pointing down a hallway.

Everyone turns to look. There’s a grey ball of fur dodging around a flailing teenager. The animal weaves through the hall like it’s a contestant on American Ninja Warrior, expertly racing away, until another door opens and a second teen takes it all in in a split second before diving to scoop the creature up.

The animal yowls.

“That’s Ovi,” Raanee says, sounding affectionate and exasperated. “He’s a cat.”

Mike says, “A mountain lion?”

Raanee laughs. “No, he’s a Maine Coon. Keisha, bring Ovi here so he can meet some friends.”

Keisha, a small girl with braces and glasses that Ovi is doing his best to headbutt off her face, hauls the cat up to the front desk. She pushes Ovi into Raanee’s arms. “I have to go clean up a mess in 3A. Can you make sure he gets back into the kitty room?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, just goes back down the hallway. The first teenager has already vanished by the time Keisha disappears behind another door.

Tommy isn’t paying that much attention, though. Ovi is as big as Raanee’s torso, and the way she has her arms wrapped around him looks awkward and hilarious. He has long gray fur and blue eyes, and his nose and ears look like he lost a fight with a brick wall. He opens his mouth and yowls, long and loud. Tommy grins.

“How much does he weight?” Mike wonders, as Tommy reaches out to scratch between Ovi’s ears.

“Twenty-three pounds.” Raanee sounds proud. “He’s a good size for a Maine Coon.” She shifts around to hike Ovi a little higher and Tommy reaches out instinctively to help.

All of a sudden he’s got 23 pounds (what is that in kilograms? Ten? Eleven? The cat is heavy!) of squirming cat in his arms.

“Here, put your arms here,” Raanee says, rearranging Tommy to suit. “There you go.”

Tommy looks down to see Ovi staring up at him, unimpressed. “I’ve never held a cat before,” he defends himself to the cat.

Ovi scrunches his scarred face up even more and moans. Clearly, he doesn’t think much of that excuse.

“I thought Maine Coons were expensive breeds?” Mike asks Raanee.

Andre tucks close to Tommy so he can get a better look at the cat. “Hej, Ovi.”

“He was a stray,” Raanee answers Mike. “We brought him in about six months ago, and he had some problems, so he wasn’t available for adoption until recently. And I think the scars put some people off.”

“Scars make cats look badass,” Tommy mutters, feeling a little slighted by the people who passed over Ovi because of his looks.

“Tommy does like scars,” Andre confides very quietly to Ovi, flashing a grin at Tommy before he starts petting the cat. “You shouldn’t worry, I think they are very good, too.”

“Problems?” Mike is frowning, Tommy can hear it in his voice. “What was wrong with him?”

Raanee’s voice is low and sympathetic. “His leg was broken, and some of the cuts on his face were infected. He’s pretty active now, and he loves to escape. He’ll be looking for a family that lets him come and go, I think, or he’ll make it happen on his own.”

Ovi blinks at them, and yawns, then blinks some more.

“Oh,” Raanee says, and Tommy drags his eyes away from Ovi to see her staring at them in surprise.

“What?” Andre asks, pressing shoulders with Tommy. “We didn’t do anything.”

Raanee shakes her head. “No,” she says. “He trusts you. That’s what the blinking means. I don’t think anyone here has gotten him to do that, so far.”

Tommy looks back down at Ovi. Ovi does that slow blink again, and then suddenly leaps out of Tommy’s arms to land on the ground. Raanee jerks like she’s worried Ovi is going to head for the door, but the cat walks over to Mike, sits at his feet, and glares imperiously up at him.

“He like you, too!” Andre grins at Mike.

Mike looks a little nervous. He cautiously kneels down, reaching his hand out toward Ovi.

“Curve your fingers,” Raanee coaches him. “Let Ovi come to you.”

Mike curves his fingers and then freezes, hand hovering in the space in front of Ovi’s head. Ovi studies him for a long moment, then headbutts Mike’s knuckles.

“Okay, now you can gently scratch between his ears and pet down his back,” Raanee smiles down at Mike. “Not his tail, though, he doesn’t like having his butt or tail pet.”

Mike obligingly scratches Ovi’s head and shoulders. “So,” Mike says, looking at Tommy and Andre. “How much is it to adopt a cat?”

* * *

They can’t take Ovi home right away. There’s a 24 hour waiting period, while the vets check Ovi out and microchips him and the SPCA does a background check or something. Tommy’s assuming it’s something complicated, because no matter how many puppy-dog eyes Andre gives Raanee, she refuses to let they take Ovi home early.

It’s probably a good thing, though Tommy doesn’t want to admit it. They’re able to go to Petsmart and pick up litter and toys and a big pillow for Ovi to sleep on. They have to get a carrier from the dog section because the cat ones all look too small. Andre picks out a red collar with a little silver tag that reads ‘Ovi’ on one side and Mike’s phone number on the other. They set everything up at home and then they wait.

Well, Tommy has to go to work, but even when he’s driving, he’s impatient for their appointment the next morning. Tommy comes home around six, sleeps for four hours, and then they’re off.

Raanee isn’t at the desk when they come in, but Carson takes them right back to a large room filled with cats playing on towers, napping on blankets, and lounging in the square of midwinter sun let in by a window. Ovi is lording over the room, perched at the top of one of the towers. He meows when Tommy, Mike, and Andre come in, licks the cheek of a golden cat who is napping beside him, and then makes his way down to sniff their shoes and nuzzle their calves.

“He remembers us,” Andre says, pleased, and leans down to stroke Ovi’s spine.

Ovi leans into Andre’s hand so hard Andre falls over, and Ovi promptly crawls into his lap.

“You ready to come home, buddy?” Tommy askes, kneeling down so he can pet Ovi, too. Ovi purrs for the first time, his eyes sliding shut as he basks in their attention.

“He looks like he’s ready,” Carson says. “Come on, I’ll help you get him into the carrier— oh, hi there, Nicky. You’re being friendly today.”

Tommy glances over to see the large golden cat sitting beside him. “Hi,” Tommy says, and, remembering Raanee’s instructions, cautiously reaches out with his fingers to see if Nicky wants to be pet, too.

Nicky looks dispassionately at Tommy’s fingers, and then turns away, ignoring Tommy entirely. He folds himself into a little loaf of cat and watches Andre pet Ovi. His fur is almost as long as Ovi’s, but thicker, and he’s probably considered a big cat as long as he’s not within arms reach of an enormous Maine Coon.

“He’s a little standoffish,” Carson says. “Don’t take it personally. Are you ready to get out of here?”

Tommy cracks his neck. “Let’s go home, boys,” he says to Andre and Mike and Ovi. Mike and Andre grin at him, and they all go into a small exam room to put Ovi in his carrier and run through a few things with the staff before they leave.

Everything seems to be going alright. Carson gives them the name of a couple of the vets near their house, they finagle Ovi into the carrier with a combination of brute force and bribery (Tommy notes the brand of treats for future use), papers are signed, credit cards are swiped, and then they’re going for the door.

About two meters from the door to the parking lot, Ovi suddenly starts screaming.

Mike almost drops the carrier, his face going slack with shock, and Tommy has a split second of confusion because the sound is an awful lot like the siren of his rig. Andre, trailing behind with the paperwork, freezes.

“Uh,” Mike says.

A few seconds later, a matching scream comes from deeper inside the building. A door slams, and someone curses, and the scream comes closer. Ovi is still shrieking his head off. From the depths of the SPCA, a streak of gold rushes out into the lobby, headed straight for the door.

Or for Mike, who stumbles backward, but manages not to drop Ovi’s carrier as the flash of gold turns into Nicky-the-cat. Nicky doesn’t slow down as he leaps into the air and hits Mike’s hip and then climbs up Mike’s body.

“Holy shit!” Mike flails and Tommy grabs Ovi away from him. “Get off me! Ow, fuck!” Mike devolves into curses as he tries to remove Nicky.

Carson leaps into action, getting his hands around Nicky’s torso and trying to pull him away. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into him!”

Ovi and Nicky are both still screaming. Tommy puts both his arms around the carrier instead of letting it hang loose, because Ovi is scrambling around and knocking it all over.

“Will they stop once we’re gone?” Tommy yells over the noise.

“Just go!” Mike orders, and Tommy starts for the door.

As Tommy steps out into the frigid parking lot, Andre says, “Stop squirming, you big baby, he’s just a cat,” and deftly tuck Nicky into his arms. The doors close after that, and it’s just Tommy with his brand new cat screaming bloody murder on the way to the car. There’s snow and patches of ice on the ground. It’s a delicate and terrifying balancing act to get to the car. He feels like someone’s about to call the cops on him, and he’ll get arrested for kidnapping. Catnapping.

Tommy puts Ovi in the back seat, facing inside so he’ll be able to see whoever ends up back there with him on the way home. Ovi takes a break from screaming to hiss and throw himself at the door of the carrier, and Tommy flinches.

Maybe they should have gotten a dog.

Someone touches his shoulder, and Tommy starts again.

“It’s me,” Mike says, sounding as tired as Tommy feels. Tommy turns to face him. Ovi goes back to screaming.

“We may have made a mistake,” Mike says.

Tommy groans and drops his head onto Mike’s shoulder. “I really want to bring him home.”

Mike is quiet for a moment. “Me, too,” he says. “We’ll try.” He rubs Tommy’s back, and Tommy relaxes as best he can with Ovi in the background making a nuisance of himself.

“Maybe he’d be happier staying here,” Tommy whispers.

“We’re gonna try,” Mike says firmy, hugs Tommy quickly but fiercely, and then lets go to walk around the car to the driver’s side.

“Hey, where’s Andre?” Tommy asks, before Mike can get in the car.

They both look around.

Andre rushes out of the SPCA a moment later, his arms full of shrieking golden cat. He’s crooning in Swedish as he comes up to the car, and he ignores all the questions Mike and Tommy ask him to duck into the back seat and fiddle with Ovi’s carrier.

A moment later the noise stops.

Tommy stares. Andre stands back up next to the car, grinning proudly. “They just miss each other,” he explains.

Tommy looks into the car. The carrier door is open, and Nicky has somehow fit himself inside with Ovi. The two cats are pressed up against each other, Nicky doing his best to groom Ovi in the tight space, both of them purring like they hadn’t been causing ears to bleed from the decibel level just thirty seconds earlier.

“Are we taking both of them?” Tommy asked blankly.

“Do you want to give them back?” Andre asks, looking both honestly curious and extremely judgemental.

“No!” Mike says, joining them by the door to see what was going on. “So we’re taking them both.”

Andre bounces on his toes. “We take them both,” he agrees. “I already paid Nicky’s fees, anyways.”

“What about the 24 hour wait and the microchipping and vet visit?” Mike asks.

“We have to bring him back for a quick visit after the New Year for that,” Andre says, and gives Mike a perfunctory kiss on the tip of his nose. “Merry Christmas!”

Tommy wraps them both up in a group hug before they can separate. “Good job team.”

Mike wriggles free after a moment. “Let’s save the self-congratulating until we get home, it’s too cold to stand around here.”

“Shotgun,” Tommy says, before Andre can fight him for the front seat.

Andre sticks his tongue out but doesn’t comment, just folds himself into the back seat next to the cats. He pets them the entire way home, which probably means he actually won. Tommy doesn’t mind. They’re all going home together, after all.

* * *

Tommy goes back to bed when he gets home, another nap before his next shift, and when he wakes up it’s after dark. It’s snowing outside, and their new house feels very cozy and warm. Andre and Mike must have decorated while he slept, because in addition to their old apartment furniture, their old apartment Christmas lights are up and pine scented candles are on the mantle in the living room. Tommy hears movement and voices in the kitchen, and he’s about go find Mike and Andre, when a flash of light catches his attention. He looks closer.

Ovi and Nicky are on the couch together, curled up close and cozy. The Christmas lights are reflecting off Nicky’s green eyes as he calmly watches Tommy stand in the door of the bedroom. Ovi is sleeping. Nicky doesn’t blink, or purr, but he does put his head on Ovi’s shoulder and go to sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Nicky-cat, Ovi-cat” Tommy whispers. “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with us on Tumblr at [Fourthlinewinger](https://fourthlinewinger.tumblr.com) and [Love-Your-Goalie](https://love-your-goalie.tumblr.com)


End file.
